I should've run when the butler opened the doors and bowed.
Why? Maybe because he bowed like he was greeting a woman… bowed like he was ushering in a queen. Or a corpse.
Either felt accurate.
The manor was colossal. Picture this: an architectural lovechild of Gothic castle that is tailored to fit the 'billionaire' aesthetics.
He walked ahead of me, so tall and graceful. My buyer, who had yet to tell me his name. No explanation. Just… him.
My captor, my savior, my abductor in designer wool. His footsteps were silent, like the floors wouldn't dare to insult his presence with sound.
The staff stood at attention in the hallway with expressionless faces. It was obvious that they didn't just work here. They served him. Worshipped him. Or feared him.
I wasn't sure which was worse.
"Welcome home, Master Caligo," one of them said.
Ah. So he did have a name. Caligo. Dramatic much? He gave a noncommittal grunt in response that almost made my eyes go round.
What a snob!
And then we turned the corner, which was when I saw them. The Family. I counted seven people seated on leather furniture that could have fed my entire convent for a year.
They looked like they were waiting for a show. Or a meal.
"Don't dawdle," my grumpy captor murmured to me without turning.
Easy for him to say. I was dawdling for my life.
The moment we entered, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Not literally. I checked. But every single one of them turned to look at me, and I knew that I was walking into a family thick with history, rivalry, and generational trauma.
A skeletal man with a sharp suit and a short stubble beard sat at the center like a throne. That must be the Father of the house. I didn't take my buyer to be one to live in a household, but okay.
The Father who produced these monsters raked me up and down with his eyes like he was inspecting a rotting fruit.
Next to him sat a woman so rigid and lacquered in pride that she may have been carved from frozen resentment. The mother.
And to her left was a silver-haired man with watery blue eyes and a cane resting against his knee. The grandfather. He wore weariness like a badge. I'd bet he had stories. And regrets.
Then there were the twins.
Identical, like God got lazy with copy and paste. But they couldn't have been more different.
One wore a blush-pink bodycon dress and too much perfume—I could smell the synthetic florals from five feet away. She crossed her legs exaggeratedly and looked me up and down like I'd spilled wine on her rug. Let's call her Barbie… but I later learned her name was Nox.
The other: Nyx, wore a tailored navy pantsuit and black heels. Her hair was pulled into a tight chignon, and she smiled at me like I was a nervous child at a family reunion. Warm, but also pitying. Great. She was the nice one.
And then… There was him.
He was leaning on the armrest of a side chair, body half-turned and legs elegantly crossed. His shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. He had the kind of beauty that crept up on you. I'm talking sharp nose, soft mouth, lean frame—but it was the eyes that got me.
Storm-grey. Depthless. Haunted.
They flicked to me for a second, then back to his fingers, which toyed with a silver ring. He was so unbothered, he didn't even look at me.
Or so I thought.
Caligo didn't speak immediately. He just led me to the center of the room like I was an exhibit at the zoo. His fingers ghosted my lower back. I jumped at the contact.
"Everyone, this is Rose." He announced without a care in the world.
There was silence at first, like my presence was a lot to take in.
Then the mother scoffed. "And what exactly is a Rose?"
"She's mine," he said simply. "My breeder."
Jesus Christ… What sort of human tells his family he's 'bought' a breeder?
Wasn't that sort of thing supposed to get him like—arrested?
I rolled my eyes, wondering if 'breeder' meant 'surrogate' in his language. "I'm sorry, your what—?"
"Breeder," Barbie or Nox repeated. "You mean you bought her? Is that even legal? Can you just go shopping for women now? Did I miss that clearance sale?"
"Mother," Nyx warned gently.
The mother ignored her and backed Barbie up instead. "Of course he did. While other Alphas find mates, he trolls the lower cities for human waste. The prostitute's son always was creative."
That word prostitute was so unexpected, and the reaction it provoked from the entire room spoke volumes.
I saw his jaw tick a little, and there was no other reaction. But suddenly, I saw it—his place here. The tension. The smirks. The way the others were hard on him. He was the outsider.
He was the son nobody rooted for. And I… was the insult.
I cleared my throat. "I'm… standing right here, you know."
"You can also sit," the grandfather said kindly. "Don't let them intimidate you."
Nox looked heavenward. "As if she could intimidate us."
"Be nice," Nyx interjected, already moving to make space beside her. She patted the cushion. "Come. Sit with me. You must be tired."
Erh… I wasn't sure about that or her or anyone else in this setting.
Caligo didn't move, nor did he instruct me; he just watched with emotionless eyes.
Jerk. He brought me here. He might as well give me some tips. Left with no choice, I sat. Not because of Nyx's kindness, but because standing felt like begging.
"You have kind eyes. Don't you think so, Ciro?" Nyx commented, brushing an invisible particle off my shoulder
Ciro.
The man in the chair… the haunted one, he finally looked up.
And this time, he saw me. Really saw me. The effect was instant.
His body stiffened. Like he'd been electrocuted. His hand froze on the ring, grip turning white-knuckled. His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared. I watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard. Then again.
What the hell? The rest of the family didn't notice. But I did.
A very gripping sensation flooded my chest. My lungs felt like it was stretching out to reach something. My stomach twisted. I couldn't breathe. It was like an invisible string had wrapped around my ribcage and tugged toward him.
I gripped the couch cushion. What the hell was this? What was this… This feeling of belonging? Of recognition to him?
He stood suddenly.
"Caligo, What the fuck are you doing?" He asked through gritted teeth.
All eyes swiveled in his direction.
Caligo's smile spread slowly. "Presenting my property."
"She's not your property!" He bellowed, his rage filling the room with a chilling aura.
What the hell was he so mad about?
I was still in my thoughts when he stormed my way, eyes holding mine possesively. In the blink of an eye, he was holding my wrist and leading me away.